Anna Karenina

‘You know, Count Vronsky, the famous one ... is going on this train,’ said the princess, with a triumphant and meaningful smile, when he found her again and handed her the note.

‘I heard he was going but didn’t know when. On this train, is it?’

‘I saw him. He’s here. His mother is the only one seeing him off. All in all, it’s the best thing he could do.’

‘Oh, yes, of course.’

While they were talking, the crowd poured past them towards the dining table. They also moved there and heard the loud voice of one gentleman who, with a glass in his hand, delivered a speech to the volunteers. ‘Serve for the faith, for humanity, for our brothers,’ the gentleman spoke, constantly raising his voice. ‘Mother Moscow blesses you for a great deed. Zhivio!’^dt he concluded loudly and tearfully.

Everyone shouted ‘Zhivio!’ and another new crowd poured into the room, all but knocking the princess off her feet.

‘Ah, Princess! How about all this!’ said Stepan Arkadyich, who suddenly appeared in the midst of the crowd, beaming with a joyful smile. ‘He put it so nicely, so warmly, didn’t he? Bravo! And Sergei Ivanych! Why don’t you say something for your part - a few words, you know, an encouragement. You do it so well,’ he added with a gentle, respectful and cautious smile, pushing Sergei Ivanovich lightly by the arm.

‘No, I’m just leaving.’

‘Where for?’

‘The country, my brother’s place,’ replied Sergei Ivanovich.

‘You’ll see my wife, then. I’ve written to her, but you’ll see her before; please tell her you’ve seen me and it’s all right. She’ll understand. Anyhow, be so good as to tell her that I’ve been appointed a member of the commission of the United ... Well, she’ll understand! You know, les petites misères de la vie humaine,‘^du he turned to the princess, as if in apology. ‘And Princess Miagky, not Liza but Bibish, is really sending a thousand guns and twelve nurses. Did I tell you?’

‘Yes, I heard that,’ Koznyshev said reluctantly.

‘It’s a pity you’re leaving,’ said Stepan Arkadyich. ‘Tomorrow we’re giving a dinner for two departing friends - Diemer-Bartniansky from Petersburg, and our own Veselovsky, Grisha. They’re both going. Veselovsky got married recently. A fine fellow! Right, Princess?’ he turned to the lady.

The princess, without replying, looked at Koznyshev. But the fact that both Sergei Ivanovich and the princess seemed to want to be rid of him did not embarrass Stepan Arkadyich in the least. Smiling, he looked now at the feather in the princess’s hat, now all around him, as if trying to remember something. Seeing a lady passing by with a cup, he called her over and put a five-rouble note into it.

‘I can’t look calmly at those cups as long as I’ve got money,’ he said. ‘And how do you like today’s dispatch? Fine fellows, the Montenegrins!’

‘You don’t say so!’ he exclaimed, when the princess told him that Vronsky was going on this train. For a moment Stepan Arkadyich’s face showed sadness; but a minute later, when, springing at each step and smoothing his side-whiskers, he went into the room where Vronsky was, Stepan Arkadyich had already quite forgotten his desperate sobs over his sister’s body and saw Vronsky only as a hero and an old friend.

‘With all his shortcomings it’s impossible not to do him justice,’ said the princess to Sergei Ivanovich, as soon as Oblonsky left them. ‘His is precisely a fully Russian, Slavic nature! Only I’m afraid Vronsky won’t find it pleasant to see him. Whatever you say, that man’s fate moves me. Talk to him on the way,’ said the princess.

‘Yes, maybe, if I have the chance.’

‘I never liked him. But this redeems a lot. He’s not only going himself, but he’s equipping a squadron at his own expense.’

‘Yes, I heard.’

The bell rang. Everyone crowded towards the door.

‘There he is!’ said the princess, pointing to Vronsky, in a long coat and wide-brimmed black hat, walking arm in arm with his mother. Oblonsky was walking beside him, saying something animatedly.

Vronsky, frowning, was looking straight ahead of him, as if not hearing what Stepan Arkadyich was saying.

Probably at Oblonsky’s indication, he glanced over to where the princess and Sergei Ivanovich were standing and silently raised his hat. His face, aged and full of suffering, seemed made of stone.

Going out on the platform, Vronsky silently let his mother pass and disappeared into the carriage.

From the platform came ‘God Save the Tsar,’ then shouts of ‘Hurrah!’ and ‘Zhivio!’ One of the volunteers, a tall and very young man with a sunken chest, bowed especially conspicuously, waving a felt hat and a bouquet over his head. From behind him, also bowing, peeped two officers and an older man with a big beard and a greasy peaked cap.

III

Having taken leave of the princess, Sergei Ivanovich and Katavasov, who now rejoined him, got into the packed carriage together, and the train started.